


the throne

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: ...Kinda, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Humiliation, M/M, Sexual Roleplay, Throne Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22462102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The fall of Grado… once a great, beautiful country allied with his own, with a military power that could nearly match Renais, razed and reduced to a shadow of what it once was. It's what they had deserved for their insubordination. Ephraim had heard whispers of the kind prince conspiring, planning to declare war on Renais, and launched a preemptive strike on the empire, conquering over the nation in a month-long battle and taking their prince captive.
Relationships: Ephraim/Lyon (Fire Emblem)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66
Collections: Anonymous





	the throne

**Author's Note:**

> posting on anon because uhh I'd rather not post nsfw on main lmao
> 
> anyway this idea had been rattling in my brain for a while so I jotted down this hot mess... tada? maybe? idk, hope you enjoy ^^

"Remember: no teeth," he barked out in contempt, leaning forward to continue with, "You know what'll happen if you even try to use your teeth." The threat sent a fearful shiver down the spine of the naked figure kneeling on the floor before him, and he received a nod in response.

"Good boy," he murmured softly, sliding his breeches down and letting his cock spring free. His plaything cautiously placed his hands on the throne he had sat himself in, to steady himself, presumably. Ephraim was having none of that though, rapping him on the knuckles and rebuking him with a, "Hands behind your back. Keep them there." Instantly, Lyon clasped his hands behind him, shrinking a little under his commandeering gaze.

Tightly gripping lilac locks, Ephraim guided his member into his conquest's wet, pliant mouth, relishing the tears forming in his wide violet eyes, and how, despite the countless number of times breaking him in, his little captive could never quite school the expression of shock at having a cock suddenly thrust between his lips and down his throat.

" _Suck_ ," he hissed out, revelling in the tight wet heat, pleasure spiking in his gut as the man instantly obeyed, using his well-trained mouth and gently bobbing his head in time with the king's lazy thrusts, occasionally pulling back to only suck at the tip, using his swirling tongue to lick up any excess precum. 

This was the ultimate, most primal form of domination; though the king of Renais' preferred way of dealing with his enemies was to cut them down by the hundreds on the battlefield, he couldn't deny that deciding to spare the former, fallen prince of Grado turned out to be a great decision. Lyon was a _sight_ , naked and on his knees, fervently sucking him off as though it was the only way to live, as though this was his rightful place.

The fall of Grado… once a great, beautiful country allied with his own, with a military power that could nearly match Renais, razed and reduced to a shadow of what it once was. It's what they had deserved for their insubordination. Ephraim had heard whispers of the kind prince conspiring, planning to declare war on Renais, and launched a preemptive strike on the empire, conquering over the nation in a month-long battle and taking their prince captive. 

Even now, after weeks of training the hubris out of the little prince, of getting him to obey his every whim… the anger at being betrayed by their long-time ally lingered, and Ephraim couldn't help but be cruel, yanking harshly at his captive's hair, and earning a yelp from the man. 

"Just look at you," he sneered, guiding Lyon once more to stuff his cock in his mouth, desire mingled with his anger. "Lapping at me whilst kneeling from the ground, like a common hound." 

The resulting look of distress in the former prince's eyes did not fool Ephraim, for he could tell that his depraved, debauched little plaything was more aroused at his humiliating words than anything else. The dilated pupils, the quivering slope of his taut, smooth back; not to mention the most incriminating evidence of all, the hardness swelling between his legs. 

"Get up," he commanded. At Lyon's dazed stare up at him, he repeated the phrase. " _Get up. Now._ I tire of your mouth." His captive's expression instantly turned to one of understanding; he knew exactly what was to come. 

Ephraim was only so patient with his captive, waiting until he climbed onto his lap and straddled his legs on either side of his thighs to manhandle him. Firmly pushing him closer by the small of his back, Ephraim wasted no time in reaching his hand between them to fist both of their cocks together, earning a whimper from Lyon. Reflexively, his purple-haired captive brought his arms up to encircle his neck. Normally, Ephraim wouldn't allow such an audacious act from anyone, but the former prince was overwhelmed with his own desire, and besides, was already too frail to do much harm to him. 

Pressing their foreheads together and using his other hand to teasingly trace circles along his hip, Ephraim whispered, "Do you know why I enjoy taking you in this room so much? Hmm?" 

Lyon drew a shuddering breath as the king continued to stroke their two members together with a steady, punishingly firm pace. "I… I d-don't know, my lord," he finally stammered out, breathless. Ephraim had many titles he allowed the plaything to address him by, when he was still lucid enough to during their trysts… 'My liege', 'My lord', and a personal favourite of his, 'Master'. 

"It is for two, very simple reasons," he replied, relishing in his captive's soft panting, the way his thighs and arms tensed as he rapidly approached his climax. Pausing in his ministrations - he didn't want the fun to stop just yet - and eliciting a whimper from his captive, he continued, "I enjoy having you service me while I'm on the throne, if only to remind you of what you once had before you had to _act out of turn_." He grabbed at Lyon's jaw with his free hand to punctuate his last words, harshly swiping at the former prince's swollen lips with his slicked fingers to rebuke him. 

"The second reason-" Ephraim slid his hand further back to prod at his entrance, noting with satisfaction the oily sensation and lack of resistance his fingers would normally meet. His captive caught on quickly, to always have his body prepared for the sake of Ephraim's pleasure. "-is that this room is quite big. Big enough to host a sizeable audience, I'd think." 

Lyon's eyes widened at that. "You wouldn't." 

"Are you defying me?" His fingers pressed inside in a rather harsh movement that drew out a moan from the lilac-haired man. 

"N-no, but… Master, please reconsider," he begged. 

"Oh? Are you saying you wouldn't want an audience for this? Perhaps I could even get my men to bring in some Grado citizens… so they'll get to witness firsthand their precious prince on his knees, whoring himself out to the very man that took his empire down and his livelihood away." 

"No, please? Anything but that." He bit his lip, stare intense and plaintive. 

"Anything?" He hummed; it was so fun to tease his plaything, to back him in a corner like this. "Then you'll have to put in hard work to buy my silence. Entertain me enough, do a good job… I guess I won't be inclined to call for anyone to accompany us in here." He tilted his head to the side, eyeing up his captive. Lyon gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod of his head, before allowing his body to be flipped and manoeuvred, his back to Ephraim's chest and legs spread and straddled over his. Ephraim pinched at his nipples, desire pulsing at the resulting gasp his captive uttered, before reaching down, each hand gripping Lyon by the crook of his knees. 

With a groan, Lyon slowly sunk himself on his cock, pausing as Ephraim bottomed out inside of him. At once, the king started fucking him, lifting him by the knees in a show of strength and pounding deep and harsh into his captive's pliant body. Helpless, all Lyon could do in return was bounce himself to meet his captor's thrusts and hang onto the arms of the throne for dear life. The chamber echoed with their moans and panting in tandem, as well as the lewd sounds of skin repeatedly slapping against skin. 

From this position, Ephraim couldn't see much save for luscious purple locks cascading over an arched back. He could probably guess what Lyon's face looked like, though - cheeks flushed, eyelashes fluttering, biting at his lip in a futile attempt to quell his moaning, louder and louder… all the signs that he was close to the edge, much like Ephraim was. 

His thrusts became more erratic, angling for a specific spot and smirking to himself at Lyon's resulting keen. He felt himself get closer and closer by the second, felt Lyon spasm around him; as he pulled Lyon's head back and down for a kiss, Ephraim pumped his release deep inside him, feeling Lyon shudder as he reached his own climax. 

They slouched back on the throne for a few moments, panting to catch their breath, Lyon boneless and collapsed against his chest. Then Ephraim pushed him down lightly to lay across his lap and the arms of the throne. He leaned forward to pick up the set of sheets lying on the ground, wrapping his now shivering husband in it. It was the early morning, after all; there were no windows in the throne room, but Ephraim imagined dawn had come and passed already. 

"See? I told you it was handy to bring our bedsheets in here for this," he remarked proudly, as Lyon snuggled up to him even closer, satisfied. 

"I suppose you're right," Lyon murmured, "but really, did you have to set it on the floor for me to kneel on? It really takes away from the authenticity of the scenario, me having my knees padded like they were." 

Ephraim wrinkled his nose. "They would have bruised otherwise, even on the carpet here. I don't want to cause any unnecessary discomfort to you." He took a hold of one of Lyon's hands, kissing his fingers gently. 

"I'm not as delicate as I used to be," Lyon retorted, playfully swatting his arm with his free hand. 

Ephraim thought back to their last few trysts, Lyon requesting him to be rougher each time. "No… no, you certainly aren't." It still apprehended him a little, to act so brutish to his beloved husband, but there was something about the act that made them both more sated, and he made sure to take good care of him afterwards. 

Lyon hummed softly, leaning down to kiss him. "Anyway, thank you for doing this for me." He let out a yawn, prompting Ephraim to rub soothing patterns up and down his back. They should take what little break time they had left to unwind. 

"Sleep well, my love," he whispered, heart swelling with affection at watching his husband doze off on his shoulder. The throne wasn't a bad place for Ephraim to rest upon, though once upon a time in his youth, he did find it too uncomfortable and rigid for his tastes. 

Even if he did find sitting on the throne unbearable now, though, he wouldn't dare jostle Lyon from his sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> ephraim, who has never said the word 'whore' his entire life: you want me to do _what_ now


End file.
